


The last gift of the Night Fury

by GreatMarta



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3077213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatMarta/pseuds/GreatMarta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if it was Toothless?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The last gift of the Night Fury

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this version of THAT SCENE from HTTYD2 was not done yet.

There was nothing but excruciating pain. A flock of Screaming Deaths seemed to be assaulting his brain, crashing it, drilling through it, sending waves of agony all over his body. Every breath felt like a Thunderdrum’s blast into his lungs. His own entrails turned into chains.

Then suddenly, the commotion within him died. Pain was replaced by exhaustion. World around him foggy. All sounds muted, as if he was drowning. There was just one, single message that echoed in his head.

KILL HIM

He turned. There was his target.

“Umh, Toothless? What did he just tell you?”

A warm torrent filled his muscles. He had a task to complete.

“Toothless, come on. What’s the matter with you?”

He moved on, anger setting his nerves on fire. Blood. There shall be blood.

“No, no, no. Come on. What are you doing? Knock it off!”

The target’s fear reached his nostrils, enhancing the lust for destruction. 

“STOP! Snap out of it!”

Those noises. How they hurt his ears. How they irritated him. How they sparked up his fire.

“Toothless, no! Toothless!”

An itch disturbed his focus. Like a fly crushing against the inside of his skull.

“Don’t!”

His insides were heating up, but so was the itching. He had to ignore it. He had to aim.

“Hiccup!”

He had to aim…

“STOP!”

No. He couldn’t fire this blast. He didn’t want to.

“SON!”

There was no stopping the eruption now. He had to release it. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

“DAD, NO!”

He clenched his jaws and swallowed.

(…)

Hiccup spat out snow, struggling to lift himself of the ground. The echo of the explosion still rung in his ears, knocking him off balance. He attempted to look around. The world was shaking, but he forced his eyes to focus. His father. He had to find him.

There he was. Limbs moving clumsily, desperately trying to push away blocks of ice. With a powerful swing he managed to lift his upper half on his arms, eyes searching the surroundings. Stopping when they found him.

They were both okay. Gods be blessed.

Hiccup’s breathing returned to normal. His vision sharpened. The rumble in his ears died out. And then it hit him – the stench, unbelievable stench of burned meat.

The young man covered his mouth, feeling a bad need to vomit. He noticed, more and more, what a horrible picture surrounded him. Snow tainted with blood and lose scales. Steam raising from sizzling pieces of flesh. A big, black blob deprived of head.

Hiccup threw up.

He tried to stand up, but his legs bent underneath him. He attempted to raise himself on his arms, but slipped. This couldn’t be happening. His mind was playing tricks on him. Surely this was not what it seemed to be.

He forced himself up. He stumbled. He kept on moving, drawn to the blob like a fly to a candle. It was taking shape now. He could see the limbs. The wings. The tail. And what seemed to be a piece of spine standing out from the ripped neck.

Groan of despair pierced his throat as he fell to the snow beside the corpse. The flesh was still warm. Scalding. Smoking. Reeking.

Hiccup suffocated on his own bile. Ignoring the heat and stench he clung to the motionless paw. And shut his eyes. This was a dream. A horribly intense nightmare. He will wake up beside Toothless any moment. This was Toothless’ warm paw petting him. Any moment now the tongue will follow and wash away his sorrows.

Hiccup weeps bitterly, knowing he cannot deceive himself. Toothless was dead. Ripped apart by his own plasma blast. Fought to break out of Alpha’s command till the very last moment. Refused to be turned into a mindless killing machine. Chose death over slavery. Preferred to die than to kill his rider. 

The young man does not register the hands that touch him. Does not register the voices. One thought consumes all of his forces. He will have to live the rest of his life knowing his best friend died to protect him.

He should have listened to his father. He should have been wiser. Who was he to think he could save the world? In the end, he couldn’t even save his own dragon. 

Hiccup understand how small he is. Understands what war is about. Understands how it is to be bent and broken. Empty. With no goal left but revenge.

This very moment Hiccup feels lust for blood. Drago Bludvist’s. Thor almighty, he will tear the madman limb from limb. With his teeth. If it’s the last thing he does.

And he will do so wrapped in the memories of Toothless.

(…)

That night the Night Fury is given a funeral. His remains are gathered, put on a ship, and covered with Stoick’s cape. They shall burn. And Toothless’ soul soar free into the sky, never to be downed again.

Yet, not all is lost. A part of the noble dragon shall forever remain by his rider’s side. A necklace made of teeth and scales hangs from Hiccup’s neck. A black cloak wraps itself around him in what seems to be a hug. The young man feels his bud’s presence, feels their bond. Toothless shall always remind him how high the price of foolishness can be. For his sake, Hiccup shall live on. Fight for the world they have dreamt of. Protect people and dragons from everybody who wishes to destroy what they’ve built. And let Toothless see it all through his eyes.

Toothless will always be there for him. In this life and the next.


End file.
